Suffering [Rick Grimes]

Chapter 1: Run, Forrest Run!

(INTRO)
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The branches tugged on my skin, my adrenaline rushing and screaming for freedom. I clawed my way through the forest the loud gruesome groans of the dead dragging, racing after me desperate to sink its teeth in my neck. The thought made me run faster, not just by the walkers.

I was being chased by people.

I heard a gunshot echo throughout the forest causing me to look back and see where they were. My heart jumped out of my chest as I felt myself start to fall. I pushed my hands out to catch something until they landed on a thick piece of wood.

I gasped my eyes shocked from my hopes of saving myself. I laughed hysterically until I realized I heard footsteps getting closer. I pulled myself up hopping over the fence, racing off quickly my eyes scanning all around for any place to hide.

My eyes landed on a old abandon house with a barn next to it, my body jerked itself toward it immediately. I heard a yell across the forest only to feel a sharp object slice through my skin.

My eyes trailed down at an arrow sticking through my thigh, flesh and blood spewing out uncontrollably.

I covered my mouth and screamed into them to quiet myself from the severe pain, my body shook violently from the shock. I shut my eyes tightly and forced myself up from the ground my body aching to be laid across the grass and just lay there to rest and die. I refused forcing my body to run towards the front door.

I ran and limped to the door holding my thigh tightly with one hand as I slammed the door wide open my mind only focusing on hiding. I breathed and gasped loudly making objects fall, realizing I was in the kitchen. I raced toward the living room my eyes darting across to find a spot, suddenly I heard a shot and footsteps in the house
in the kitchen.

Fuck.

I'm screwed.
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I slithered through the living room watching my step carefully, one kick or creak they'll shoot me on the spot. I covered my mouth limping down a hallway glancing up and down seeing which way is better. Goosebumps ran hearing a deep southern accent, raspy and bold.

"You got em for sure." A male spoke, you blinked glancing down your leg to realize your leg was leaving a trail.

SHIT.

"Might as well look throughout the kitchen, you can check the bedrooms." Another male murmured, his voice a lot more husky but southern too. I heard a sure and proceeded hear foot steps heading my way. I limped quick to a bed room and closed the door quietly behind , snapped my head around the room to find a spot to hide in. The only choice I got except for the tiny ass closet and no bathroom.

Under the bed.

I landed on all fours scooting underneath the bed ducking down. Wincing violently, I struggled with the arrow in my thigh making it difficult to move without it scrapping against the floor. I glanced at my leg grabbing the arrow, taking a deep inhale and pulled. My entire body begged for me to scream bloody mary, but I held it down by biting down on the collar of my flannel shirt. I shut my eyes pulled and heard the footsteps right outside the door. My heart beat faster my fingers grasping tightly on the arrow and yanking it out with one final pull. My scream slightly escaped and the door flew wide open. I breathed quietly covering my mouth in position. The man walked in his cowboy boots clacking against the wooden floor making me shiver with fear and anxiety.

I felt like throwing up on the spot.

I gently sat the arrow down my eyes wide staring at his feet. He had headed towards the closet slowly his shoes barely making a creak. I rested my hands on the floor watching carefully looking back at the door then at him. Then, I started to slide out standing up right behind him. He had his hair slick back, wore a button up tan shirt with slight blood on it indicating he probably killed a few of those walkers back there.